Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda. It's So

You Want Me To Give Her A Key?" The Guy Asked. "i Want You To Give Her A Possibility," She Told Him, Looking At My Necklace Again. "and That's What A Key Represents. An Open Door, A Chance. You Know?

I Jammed My Hand In My Jacket Pocket, Bracing Myself Fo The Next Hit, And Fel Something. Something Grainy And Samll, Sticking To The Tips Of My Fingers: The Sand From Commons Park. Oh Cass, I Thought. I Miss You So, So Much.

Once I Turned Eighteen, I Could Cut Myself Off From Everyone And Finally Get What I Wanted, Which Was To Be On My Own, Once And For All. ~ruby, Pg 38

I Remembered Owen Telling Me How Music Had Saved Him In Phoenix, That It Drowned Everything Out, And It Was The Same For Me Now. As Long As I Had Something To Listen To, I Could Blur The Things I Didn't Want To Think About, If Not Block Them Out Completely.

How Ballsy It Was To Just Assume You Know, With One Glance, The Things Another Person Could Live Without. As If It Was The Same For Everyone, That Simple.